


Benign Neglect

by faerywhimsy (persephone20)



Category: Wicked Lovely Series - Melissa Marr
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-28
Updated: 2011-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-23 03:26:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone20/pseuds/faerywhimsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU that starts with <i>Ink Exchange</i> mostly, where it's Donia and Irial who pursue Leslie. Niall is a good little faerie who stays within the rules of the Summer Court.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue contains some spoilers for the end of _Wicked Lovely_ :)

**Prologue.**

 _Donia was feeling restless. New power as the Winter Queen meant new responsibilities and that meant, all together, a lot of new things. Sometimes, she wished for the days when Beira had still reigned as queen. They hadn't been easy times, but they had been simpler._

 _When she'd become Winter Queen, after Aislinn had become Summer Queen, it had made it clear to Donia that she would never have Keenan. Letting go of the last spark of hope she'd managed to hold on to for so many centuries made her feel as though her heart would grow cold as the winter she was now queen of._

 _Then she had seen the mortal girl, Leslie, for the first time. Aislinn seemed inordinately concerned with the wellbeing of this mortal girl and, as well she should, with the way Niall and some of the rowans were looking at her._

 _Later, Donia would tell herself that she started stalking the mortal girl because she was Aislinn's and, since the Summer Queen had stolen someone away from her, Donia would pay her back in kind. However, that was just a mask to cover the real reason. In 700 years, Donia had never felt such instant attraction to a human being, and never felt any attraction at all to a girl._

*

 **Chapter One.**

Crazy. The whole thing is crazy. Just crazy.

And when she can get past the whole 'crazy' nature of the whole thing, and move on, Leslie's going to be really pleased.

Thing is, it's not so easy as just 'getting past' and 'moving on'. Aislinn might have meant well, but what the hell had Seth been thinking taking her to a place where...

 _That_ , where _that_ was a whole bunch of creatures who barely looked human, let alone friendly, were drinking together in a bar. If he was looking out for her so much, where had he been when Donia had walked up to her?

 _The white-blonde fairy monarch was sipping from a wine glass when Leslie entered Rath and Ruins. Her legs were crossed and something about the slender woman caught Leslie's eye. Donia smiled at her, before Seth directed her into a booth._

 _"Now remember," he told her. "Don't accept any drinks from strangers?"_

 _Leslie raised her eyebrows. "I've got a shift in a couple of hours. I'm not going to start drinking now."_

 _"Good." Seth gave her a firm nod, as if that sorted everything out. He'd never been particularly eloquent, never to her anyway, but this level of presumption was new, even for him. Or, maybe what was new was that he wasn't walking away from her straight afterwards._

 _Leslie gave herself a little shrug. What did she care what Aislinn's boyfriend thought of her? It was strange that she'd been so vehement that Leslie stay with him but, then, so much of their friendship had started being weird lately. Suddenly, Leslie didn't want to think about it anymore._

 _"I'm going to dance."_

 _Seth gave another nod, as though she was free to go, but then his eyes followed her as she walked away from him. Leslie sighed. He really wasn't making it easy to overlook the weirdness of the situation that found them alone together in this club._

 _Set on ignoring him while she danced, Leslie's eyes took in the rest of the club. There were people with dreadlocks, several of them, all looking fairly identical. There were a couple of girls who seemed to have vines either drawn or tattooed on their skin. Speaking of strange tattoos, that man who'd let her in at the door had seemed to have a strange one of tusks..._

 _And then there was the white-blonde woman sitting by her drink. A flickering glance from Leslie confirmed that she was still there. Her head turned, as though feeling Leslie's gaze upon her. Leslie turned her head away quickly. There was music playing, not something that she'd ever heard before, but something infinitely dance-to-able. Leslie lifted her hands slightly above her head and started swaying to the music. This was something she could thank Seth for. As the music swept her away, Leslie closed her eyes. She became both more aware of her immediate surroundings, and less aware in general. Aislinn, Seth, Ren... they all went away, and it was just her dancing on a dance floor, without any other cares in the world._

 _She became slowly aware of a coolness behind her. Opening her eyes, she found that Donia had come to dance near her. They weren't touching; the white-blonde woman was being quite conscientious about space. But there was a look in the other woman's eyes, a look that Leslie found herself falling towards, dancing towards, matching the beat of her movements with those of the other woman. It was both serious, and sensual, and Leslie found she didn't mind, in that moment, having been brought out of her own little world on the dance floor._

And then Irial had come to them from the other side of the bar.

 _So immersed in her dancing with Donia, Leslie almost didn't notice the presence that sidled up behind her. It may have taken her longer still to notice, had Donia's gaze not flickered behind her. New habits that had risen out of wariness caused Leslie to turn around. She tried to make it subtle, like it was part of the dance she was having with Donia. But the sight of this tall, dark man who wasn't quite a stranger made her eyes open up wide._

 _"You..!" she said, and realised that she wasn't quite so uneffected by the dance as she'd thought. Her voice sounded sluggish to her ears, but she recognised this man. Fancy her running into him in this strange club of all places. "I know you. You're Irial."_

 _"Irial," he said, at the same time as she said it. Leslie smiled, hardly aware that they were no longer dancing. Or that, perhaps, a different kind of dance had begun. "It's wonderful to see you again, Leslie."_

 _From behind Leslie, Donia was glaring at Irial. He saw it, and seemed amused by it. Leslie remained oblivious, even more so when Irial reached out towards her. She leaned into his touch as though somehow they were already lovers._

 _"So beautiful," he murmured, and Leslie's eyelids flickered up a little at that. "So very nearly mine."_

 __Mine. _It had been a word used by some of Ren's friends on that night... on that horrible night. Leslie jerked to hear it again now._

 _"Yours?" she asked, hearing that her voice was shaking. She became aware of Donia again with the feeling of cold touching her arm. "I'm not yours."_

 _"Come, Leslie." That was Donia calming voice. Leslie didn't see the deadly glare she set across at Irial. She wasn't ready to turn away from him yet. You never knew what someone would do when you turned your back on them._

 _But Irial wasn't looking at her anymore. He was meeting Donia's gaze. Something silent seemed to be tranferring there, above her head. Something Leslie wasn't aware of._

And that was when Seth stepped in, barrelling into the conversation as though he hadn't been sitting on his hands too long to be of any actual use to her. And if Aislinn didn't think that that was going to require some speaking to the next time Leslie saw her at school...!

Ah. Leslie sighs and, with the sigh, it seems that the rest of the emotions she feels -- like all of the emotions she felt lately -- escape out of some hatch that Leslie can't quite figure out the location of.


	2. Chapter 2

Donia's feet leave patches of ice in the grass as she walks towards Irial. He is stupid to meet her here. In her home, she is at her strongest, regardless of the early summer that is happening on the other side of her gates. Yet, there he stands, the King of the Dark Court, come to...

"What?" Donia demands. There is no give in her voice as she stands to face him. Her voice is about as unfriendly as she can make it. "Why have you come here?"

Irial spreads his hands out, as though he is somehow the maligned character. "Donia. We've never been at odds in the past."

Donia scoffs at that outright. "Never directly, perhaps, but never have we been allies either."

Irial turns his head to the side. A cheeky smirk picks up the corners of his lips. "You were never a fairy monarch before either. Many things can change."

Donia sighs. Enough of these word games. "What do you want, Irial?"

"The Winter and Dark Courts were once closely allied. It was an alliance that suited me well. Very well indeed," Irial says. His lips twist wryly as he considers the difficulties that Keenan's broken curse have caused for his court. "I notice that you and Keenan have not been getting along very well lately."

"How Keenan and I get along is none of your business," Donia tells him, from between gritted teeth.

"Of course. Of course." Irial muses. "You seemed like you were able to forget him for a little bit last night, though."

At Irial's words, Donia's mind flashes back to the night before. She had not meant to stalk the mortal girl in such a way. And yet.. she had. She was Aislinn's, and so Donia wanted her. Yet, when she had felt that spike of fear from her, fear that Irial had prompted, Donia couldn't deny having felt a sense of protectiveness over the girl that had nothing to do with Aislinn, or Keenan, whatsoever.

"Don't think about playing with that girl, Irial. You won't like the consequences if you go up against the Summer Court anymore," Donia says, using the name of the Summer Court for the distance she wants between Leslie and Irial.

Irial smiles. It's not a pleasant smile. "Oh, I've already gone up against the Summer Court," he tells her. "What I'm inviting you into is an opportunity to enter the game mid-play."

Donia narrows her eyes. She will ask him about this game later. But first, she needs to know why he has approached her for this. "Why?" she asks.

"Isn't it obvious?" Irial asks. Donia doesn't deign to answer and, in time, Irial adds, "The Winter and Dark Courts work well together. It is something I would like to continue, even now that you are regent."

 _Even though you used to be a human._ Donia can hear the words as clearly as though he said them, but that doesn't matter to her right now.

"What is this _game_ you mentioned?" Donia asks him.

But Irial is done giving away easy answers. He shakes his head just once, and stares at her. "I think I'll keep that to my chest for a little while. Are you in or out, regent?"

He thought she was playing with him. Well, she is playing with him, attempting to get answers that will keep Leslie safe from him. But, if she doesn't agree to work with him now, she won't be able to keep her safe.

Donia exhales. Alliance with the Dark Court meant only strength for the Winter Court before. She couldn't be doing a terrible thing now by allying herself to Irial. And, if it meant that Leslie stood some greater chance at safety...

"Very well," Donia says, hoping against hope that he will give her no reason to regret this. "The alliance between the Winter and Dark Courts still stands."

Irial smiles.

*

It is Evan who meets her at the house after when she returns. She doesn't want to talk to him, knowing exactly what he will say. It is nothing that her own heart hasn't been telling her.

She'd been so worried, since becoming Winter Queen, that her feelings for Keenan would make her biased, either towards or too much against the Summer Court. Now, she has potentially created another bias, that towards the Dark Court, for a mortal girl whom she barely knows.

"Are you sure this was a good idea?"

She should have known better than to think she could avoid Evan's question for long. He had been the rowan man who had been with her the longest, who had stayed with her even after she had become a regent in her own right. There had been times, in the past, where she'd seen his dedication to her and wondered if it signified some sort of feeling in him towards her.

Turning to face him now, Donia draws herself up to every inch of her height. With her long white-blonde hair, and flowing robes, she knows that she makes quite the vision, particularly when she does not go to the trouble to glamour herself. Still, Evan's eyes are impassive. Duty before feeling, Donia thinks. It's one of the things that separate her from the other faeries, one thing that always reminds her of her human heritage. One reason she would have made a perfect Summer Girl.

But she is not a Summer Girl. She is the Winter Queen. And it is time to remind Evan of exactly that.

"You will not question me," she informs him. Her eyes stay trained on him until he breaks eye contact first, then takes one single step back from her.

"Yes, my Queen," he says, and Donia turns away.


	3. Chapter 3

That's not the last time she see... oddities where there should just be people. As Leslie walks once familiar streets, she starts to wonder if Halloween has come early to Huntsdale this year, and just nobody has bothered telling her. That would be right.

But, in all seriousness, the strangeness of creatures who look like humans, but with thorns popping out all over their skin, or scales down one side of their body, or even, in one case, dark wings instead of arms, was all starting to freak her out. She'd thought that getting her tattoo -- reclaiming her body, as she'd told herself -- would make all of this better but, clearly, there was something more that Leslie had to do to make herself more safe.

The first time it happens, Leslie is being pursued by a man with sharp fangs and an ugly smile. At first, she walks faster but, when that doesn't do anything but cause him to follow faster, she realises that she has a choice here: stay scared, or stand up for herself. Her fear has already been rising and disappearing almost in time with her breaths, but Leslie knows that it's not intelligent for her to engage in a fight with someone who is much wider than her, and at least a full foot taller.

When a guy standing against a wall she's about to walk past makes the dumb decision to step into her path, Leslie realises she has a second option open to her. No guy in their right mind is going to attack a girl who is demonstrating her strength against another person.

"Hey, beautiful. Whatcha doing walking alone so late?"

The man has bad teeth and his breath smells like cigarette smoke. Leslie doesn't need to know anything more about him, apart from him standing in her way. She shoves him out of her way, then turns to face him.

If she was feeling any less aggressive, she might have started when her little shove projects him back towards the wall. As it is, she just glares at him while he tries to steady himself, then stare her down.

"Hey!" he says to her. "I was just tryin' to be nice. You want a fight..?"

He lumbers back towards her, but Leslie thinks she has his number. He's already off balance so, when Leslie sticks out her foot to trip him, he tumbles over her, onto concrete. It knocks the breath out of him, but she's not finished with him yet.

"You think it's funny to make a nuisance of yourself because a girl's walking alone down a street?" she demands.

She jumps up onto his back, pulling his arm up behind him until he cries out. She feels anger. She knows she does, even though she doesn't hold onto it for very long. That not being able to hold onto her own proper emotions makes her perhaps more vicious than she needs to be, trying to prove to herself that she can still feel, that the things that have been happening to her haven't cut her off from that.

The last thing she expects, when she looks up in the direction of the sharp fanged man, is for him to have stopped and watched this little display. He is looking at her approvingly. Dropping the man's arm abruptly, she gets back to her feet, and heads for the Rath and Ruin.

*

When she sees Irial across the room, she goes across to him and kisses him squarely on the lips before he can say anything that might turn her off what she plans. A lot of it's hazy but she remembers that, the last time she was here, she was feeling. Standing between the white-blonde lady and this man, she was feeling lust, and anger, and contentment in the dancing that had happened just before. In the midst of being unable to feel, Leslie pushed herself towards something she might not ordinarily have done.

Instead of pushing her away, Irial's hands come down hard on her arms. She feels pain, but pain's good. Pain is feeling. She bites his lip in return and relishes in the growl that makes him emit. Then his mouth is hard across hers, tongue darting into her mouth, dancing with her tongue, as though he is a starving man sitting down to his first buffet. Leslie is happy to be that for him. She is happy that he gets something from her even as she's getting something from him.

That familiar hazy feeling slips over her again, and Leslie sighs into Irial's mouth. She's made dumb decisions before, and she's pretty sure that this is another one of them even as she pulls back only enough to be able to see his face clearly.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wild, but he manages to focus on her as well before Leslie opens her mouth to say, "We need to get out of here. Somewhere that has a bedroom."

Irial's eyes flash, and he takes her hand in his, making her aware of just how small, frail, her hands are in comparison to his. The individual bones of her fingers clunk together, but Leslie is smiling as she sails out of the Rath and Ruins.

*

Donia doesn't see her again until the next day. She had gotten quite used to lingering around Bishop O'Connell High School when Keenan had first started pursuing Aislinn, so it's not so strange to adopt the pose again now. Especially seeing as how this pose is for herself, not in aid of Keenan's courting another woman.

She has told herself, before coming here, that she would tell Leslie about the Dark King's game, regardless of the gaps in her knowledge. She would be truthful to the girl, and so endear herself to her while at the same time alienating her from Irial.

That idea fades when she sees Leslie floating towards her day at school. The girl seems happy, and calm in a way that Donia doesn't think she's see her yet. The Winter Queen sees also the shadows that skirt around the mortal girl, evidence of where she has been, and with whom, the night before. Donia blinks a couple of times against unexpected tears. Not competing with him, then, she thinks to herself. Sharing is the only other option still open to her.

She doesn't attempt to approach Leslie until after school is finished for the day. From her vantage point in the morning, Donia can see Aislinn come up to Leslie, sees her falter, sees her lips flatten into a line as she too sees the shadows surrounding Leslie and correctly interprets the reason behind them. She can only hear snatches of conversation.

"Where... last night?"

"... Rath and Ruin... thought you and Seth would be there."

"Did you... anyone else?"

"No..."

The conversation Donia has with Leslie after school goes very differently.

Aislinn isn't in sight as Leslie leaves the school grounds. Donia steps forward, simultaneously dropping the glamour that kept her hidden from mortal eyes. As soon as she sees the Winter Queen, Leslie's eyes light up.

"I remember you," she says on a breath, and Donia's heart gives a little thump that she's been so fondly remembered by this girl. "I hoped I'd find you again at Rath and Ruin." She'd hoped it for the same reasons that had drawn her to Irial. Now, being with Donia again, Leslie feels the tension that had gradually built up over the day, start to relax, start to dissipate.

"I wasn't there last night." Donia regrets this now. Court stuff had kept her near her house for most of the evening. She wondered if Irial was still paying attention to his own Court while he was so clearly pursuing Leslie.

"I was sorry for it. When I saw Irial, I'd hoped..." Leslie bites her lip even as Donia hazards a glance towards her. Whatever she'd hoped, she wasn't comfortable with sharing it yet. She changes the subject. "Sometimes it's nice to just be around people who accept you for who you are, you know?"

Donia knows, and she feels a little sick for the fact that she knows Irial is playing with her. "I will be there again tonight," Donia promises. As she says it, she knows that Court reasons won't get in the way tonight. Won't get in the way of her protecting Leslie.

Leslie's eyes shine and she smiles. "I hope you will," she says. Her eyes shift a little as if she realises that this has taken them to the natural end point of their conversation, and that she knows what awaits her at home if she can't find a way to stay out. Her smile isn't as easy as she asks of Donia, "Would you like to go out to coffee somewhere now?"

Although Donia doesn't know what has taken the light out of the smile Leslie gave her before, she knows the answer to this question. "That would be lovely."


	4. Chapter 4

Donia doesn't get a chance to see Irial alone again for a while. In the end, it is she who must come to his house in order to speak.

"And to what do I owe this surprise?" Irial's eyes travel over her as though they have every right to.

Donia's snappish response cuts him out of that. "I'm here to talk about Leslie."

Irial peers at her carefully. "What about Leslie?"

Donia walks into his house without being invited. He will not strike her due to their alliance, and any other members of the Dark Court disagreeing with the alliance would not be able to harm her as one of the faery monarchs. "You told me about a game that was in mid-play. I've made formal our alliance, and it's been so for long enough you know it to be true. So. Tell me the details of this game."

Without changing facial expression, Irial extends a hand and directs her to be seated comfortably. Donia does so. Every step is exactly as regal as one would expect from a faery Queen.

"I have simply discovered a way for faeries of my Court to feed off of humans. Leslie was the first and, as such, she is mine."

Again, Donia hears that proprietary use of _mine_ in Irial's voice that had so set Leslie off the first night they'd been out at the Rath but, if Leslie seemed inclined to forgive that, Donia couldn't hold it against him. The rest, however, she very much does hold against him.

"Are you out of your mind? _This_ is the mortal you deign to share with me to seal our alliance? While you suck her dry?" Leslie's faded smile passes through her mind, and Donia stands up, horrified. "How long is it going to take for you to kill her?"

Irial lifts his hands, as though he is completely unfazed by Donia's ire. "Now now, we think it's safe. And, what isn't _completely_ safe, we are working through now. I assure you that Leslie will be fine."

Donia's eyes narrow, not willing to believe the same things that Irial obviously believes. "I should tell Leslie right now..."

Irial stands up too, and suddenly. "If you do that, I'm afraid I shall have to take it as

My god, Donia thinks, looking into Irial's dark eyes. They don't waver, don't hesitate. He would do exactly what he said.

This is the price of alliance with the Dark Court.

Assured that he has gotten his point across, Irial sits down again. Within reach of his fingers, there is a goblet of some sort of faery wine, waiting for him on the table next to his chair. He reaches for it, and sips at it, as though all of this bothers him not at all. "The Winter Court did have the upper hand over the Dark Court in the previous alliance, that is so." He flicks a glance up to Donia again, who hasn't relaxed enough to be able to resume her seat again. "I assure you that will not be the case this time around."

The Winter Queen does not know what to say to that. It is certain that Irial's words have now made sure she would not relax to sit down at all. "It seems I have wasted my time in coming here today," Donia says. Her step is not so sure as it had been when she first arrived.

"Remember what I have said, Donia." Irial doesn't look back at her as she passes him. "I take care of what is mine."

 _And you stop them from having any chance to leave you, too._ For the first time, Donia sees the very real ruthlessness of the Dark King who trapped Keenan in a curse. Somehow, she had convinced herself that it had been all Beira's doing. From Donia's vantage point, the last Winter Queen had always been the greater threat.

"I thank you for this," Donia says stiffly. "This conversation has been... illuminating."

"I look forward to seeing you at the Rath this evening. Leslie looks forward to seeing you again."

Donia turns her head sharply to gaze at the Dark King as he says this. To that, Irial makes no response but to lift his wine glass and take another drink.

*

Irial is all surface solicitousness to both Leslie and Donia after the mortal girl enters the Rath in the nights after that. Donia knows not what to do, apart from to go along with it. Leslie reaches out a hand for Donia even as she is wrapped up in Irial's arms many a time, sometimes with his head buried in her chest, sometimes with the Dark King leering over her shoulder.

Nothing more is made of Leslie's regular appearances in the Rath. No faery would dare; she is the plaything between regents of two faery Courts.

Seth comes into the Rath on one occasion. Leslie is high and drunk on faery wine and the delicious sensations aroused between Winter and Dark regents. She waves at him, grinning widely, but not recognising the signifcance of seeing him there. Not really. Donia and Irial know what Aislinn's human boy will pass on, so neither one of them are surprised when Aislinn, Keenan, and many members of the Summer Court make their appearance a night later.

"Leslie."

The word is not shouted, yet it shuts up the entire club. Donia notes that Seth is standing directly behind Aislinn. Keenan is glowering at her, which just makes her lift her chin up further.

Aislinn has eyes for no one but Leslie, and Leslie can hardly make herself stand still to pay attention.

"Leslie." The Summer Queen's voice is softer this time. Some of the noise in the club resumes now that the majority of its inhabitants are not concerned with what is about to happen. Aislinn is trying to bring Leslie back to her. Trying, but failing. "Les... Can you hear me?"

Keenan strides over to Donia, but Irial is by her side, stopping them from having any sort of private discourse. Keenan's eyes flicker to the Dark King, and back to Donia again.

"Donia..." he says. "What have you done?"

Donia firms her jaw. She breaks the searching gaze Keenan seeks to tie her to, makes eye contact with Leslie across the room. Only when the human girl smiles a distracted smile, does she pay attention to the Summer King, her once love, again. Irial has already started speaking to her.

"I'm afraid this mortal girl is no longer of your court's concern," he's saying.

"She is a friend to my Queen and, as such, a friend to the Court."

Irial gives that smile that says he knows he has a way around the opinions of other faeries. Donia is glad, for once, to have that slimy smile being shared with someone who is not her. "And have you claimed her, kingling?"

"She is not a faery to be claimed," Keenan gutters.

"Ah!" Irial lifts a finger. "But you must know, then, that the Dark Court can lay claim to her. You know we have no rules against faeries in our Court claiming mortals."

Irial watches with relish as Keenan tries to get his emotions in order and under control. He has said not a word that the Summer King can argue against. After the way the young Summer Queen had fought so hard to retain control over her own mortality and human life, Irial had a pretty good idea who had stopped Leslie from being claimed by the Summer Court. Still, their loss, his gain.

Aislinn is looking to Seth, who still stands right by Aislinn's side, frowning at Leslie who is smiling absently and assuring them she is fine.

"Seth, we need to get her out of here. This isn't good for her."

"No!" This time, the regent's voice that shuts up the club is a shout. The faeries in the Rath are looking much more concerned now that it is the centuries old Dark King who has raised an issue.

Aislinn doesn't back down. She leaves Seth crouching over Leslie and stands to face this obstacle in her path. "She is coming with us," she tells him.

"I'm afraid not," Donia interjects, in the face of Aislinn's shocked expression.

"Donia..."

"Summer Queen," Donia responds coldly. "I have allowed you to take one figure who matters to me. It will not happen a second time."

It does not matter to her that Keenan can and does hear this. She doesn't look at him, doesn't even see Aislinn's eyes flicker to her King. Her eyes remain trained on Donia the whole time, searching for some sign of weakness. Donia could have assured her there was none.

"Donia.." she starts again. "There must be some way.."

"There is," Donia says. "You and your Court leave Leslie to us now, and there will be no bloodshed.

Keenan was strangely silent. After having stood up for his Queen's wishes thus far, did he already intend to back down? Donia didn't look at him to ascertain whatever he was thinking.

"You can't mean this!" Aislinn cries. "We're friends.."

" _Were_ friends." With this statement, Donia cuts her final ties to the Summer Court. "You have one minute to accede to our request."

Once again, she is aware of Irial flanking her. _Our request_ , she had said. She knew that the slip would not go unobserved by either of the Summer regents.

It's to Seth that Aislinn first turns to. He's still with Leslie, but hasn't managed to keep her attention. She is still looking in the direction of Donia and Irial. In fact, her head is nodding slightly, as if in agreement with what Donia was saying.

For the first time, Donia looks to Keenan. Foolish King, she think. To have given up the true love that Donia was willing to give him, giving all due consideration to the logic of their opposing Courts, and for what? Aislinn didn't love him. She wasn't there with him. He was there for her, in whatever limited capacity that happened to be. But Aislinn was there for Leslie, and for Seth.

"Fine," Aislinn says, with a single nod to Seth. The mortal boy stands up. Donia had once been quite fond of the boy, before the opposing interests had put them on opposite sides of this fight. Aislinn nods just once to Keenan.

Keenan, much less than arguing over Leslie, seems unable to leave Donia alone.

"Don..." he starts.

"Leave it, Keenan," she answers. "It's done."

There's nothing more that needs to be said. Seth and Aislinn, some of the rowan men, and a couple of other Summer Court faeries, crowd near the door to the Rath, waiting for their other regent.

Keenan sighs, and Donia turns away from him. They've done this part. She's got no interest in rehashing it again. He must have left while Donia was deliberately not looking. Instead, she sees that Irial is already by Leslie's side. She's smiling up at the Dark King as Donia watches him pick her up.

"I knew you'd come back for me," she says, and Donia watches that look in Irial's eyes very carefully as he looks down at their increasingly frail mortal girl.


	5. Chapter 5

She needs much more sleep, lately, as though bouts of violence and partying take more of a toll on her than they used to. Donia wants to ask Irial about this, but fears the answers she'll receive. As Leslie grows weaker, the Dark Court faeries grow stronger. They are fond of Leslie too, when they see her, but Irial seems less pleased about this than Donia thinks he would have been, if this was just about the ink exchange.

On one night, after Leslie sleeps, Donia turns to Irial before he exits her room.

"Why do you fight for her?" Her question is soft, and as non-offensive as she can make it.

Irial doesn't turn to answer her, but he does answer her. "Because she is the key to my Court's survival."

"She is. But you fight like it's for more than that."

Donia didn't know why she was pushing this. It's like she's looking for him to tell her that he loves Leslie, like she loves Leslie. She's wanting to believe that she's not benignly allowing someone who doesn't care for Leslie to do unconscionable things to her.

Irial's jaw tightens, but he doesn't rage at her. Perhaps that's because he doesn't want to wake Leslie with the noise, but maybe even that's a sign of caring too. His gaze flickers away. He refuses to answer.

Donia stays with the mortal girl while she sleeps, wondering what it is she sees in her dreams, and if they are any better than they were before two faery monarchs decided she was far too important not to have in their lives.

*

The days start to lose their shape, start to lose their... separation, from one to another. One thing Leslie knows: Irial is always there. And Donia. The latter is there offering sad eyes and sweet kisses, as though she wants to say something, but doesn't know how to do it. When she gives Leslie those sad eyes, Leslie gives her smiles; reaches out with her hands and draws Donia to her, kissing her lips gently. She always figures Donia has done this many times before.

Sometimes Irial comes in and just watches them. Sometimes, he joins in. It's difficult to stay present when everything feels this good. Maybe that's the reason, Leslie thinks, maybe that's the why behind days losing their shapes. She could have sworn today was Monday, that it was time to go back to school again, but Irial tells her it's Friday, and she'll just have to go back to school again next week. Leslie doesn't mind. She doesn't mind anything anymore. All the feelings of worry, or concern, fear or upset are just gone, as though they've never been.

She knows Irial and Donia will take care of her.

And then, one day, she finds out otherwise.

Leslie is standing opposite Irial when Donia enters his house on that day. Her eyes are clear like Donia hasn't seen them since near the beginning, but Leslie doesn't notice her for a while. The rest of the Dark Court in the house have long since cleared out. Donia has no idea how long this fight has been going on, only that she has never before seen such pain in the Dark King's eyes.

"All this time? All this time, and you've been lying to me! When were you going to tell me, Irial? Or were you just going to let me die? I can't believe this. All this time, I thought you cared about me. I thought you loved me! And it was all a lie!"

Irial opens his mouth. He's about to find something to refute these statements with but, as a faerie, he's relegated to telling only the truth. That limits him. It doesn't matter. Leslie turns away from him, turns around and sees Donia.

"Don..." she says, and Donia's heart breaks at the news she's going to have to tell her. Leslie rushes close to Donia. Her hands reach out to grab Donia on the upper arms, fingers digging in unconsciously; her skin feels as feverish as her manner. "Tell me you didn't know about this," Leslie begs.

Like Irial, Donia is confined only to the truth. She closes her eyes, and her head slumps forward.

Leslie gives a wail, one which both Irial and Donia wince at.

"No," she moans and, at that point, Donia realises Leslie's crying. Has been for a while, Donia realises, from the redness around her eyes.

Taking a step towards her, Donia attempts to offer comfort. Leslie recoils violently.

"Get away from me," Leslie tells her, in a low, volatile voice. Her voice raises to consider both of them. "Stay away from me!"

She finds the door, almost blind for the tears, tears that neither one of them deserve, she tells herself sternly. She's almost glad that she can't see properly, can't be reminded of all the memories that have happened here over the last several weeks, months? God, how much time has passed while she's been trapped like a living battery between these two faeries?

Near the front of the house, she kicks something hard, hears it crash, and hardly cares. It's little payment enough for what they have put her through. Leslie viscously wishes that it is something expensive that has broken.

Neither Irial nor Donia make any attempt to stop Leslie's flight from the Dark Court. Irial's leaning against one of the pillars of the four poster bed. It's all he can do just to keep himself upright. When Leslie left the house, she took half of him with her. The worst part of it is that he has no one but himself to blame.

"Well, that's it then," Irial whispers.

Donia looks at him. She has no idea how Leslie found out. Did Irial tell her, finally? If he had, he had deliberately kept Donia's awareness out of the telling and, for that at least, Donia could be grateful.

But she isn't as ready as Irial to just let go yet.

"Not necessarily," she says.


End file.
